


A (Poorly Translated) Blossoming Of The Summer Moon Lily

by orchidlocked



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: A Punch In The Face, Babel Trek Open Project (Star Trek), Cardassian Anatomy, Cardassian Culture, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, First Time, Garak's Creative Vocabulary, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Like Real Filthy, M/M, Other, Overuse of Metaphors, Tender Filth, Topping To Avoid Your Feelings, Topping from the Bottom, Tops Who Come Close To Crying, Universal Translator, Utter Filth, language porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:13:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22393813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orchidlocked/pseuds/orchidlocked
Summary: The Universal Translator shuts off in the middle of one of Garak and Julian's spirited lunchtime discussions. What do the spy and the doctor have to say to one another when neither can understand... or so they think? Hijinks & shenanigans ensue. Who gets punched in the face and who lets their mind run away with them?
Relationships: Elim Garak & Kira Nerys, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 52
Kudos: 362
Collections: The Babel Trek Open Project





	A (Poorly Translated) Blossoming Of The Summer Moon Lily

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm not going to be writing this out in Kardasi and I have no idea about Bajoran. Let me just say that when two people are speaking to one another and they don't understand, it will be in [brackets.] When people can understand one another, it will be in normal “quotations,” and poorly-translated phrases specific to a particular language, aka phrases butchered by the UT, will be marked /by backslashes/. I hope I've done my best to make it clear when folks can understand one another!
> 
> I’m adding a content warning for a brief mention of sexual assault; there is none in this piece but it is discussed between two characters. 
> 
> This portrays both Kira and Garak in pretty canon-typical ways (they've both killed a lot of people!), including their canon-typical distrust and disdain for each other, and it has a bit of violence in it so maybe don't read that if someone getting their nose broken or slapped is going to ruin your day!!! okay! also, I have a filthy mind, like real filthy! Don't say I didn't warn ya! Yall been warned!!!!! Consider this your final warning!!! Continue at your own risk! But also it's really sappy too. The worst of both worlds. What a great challenge. I had quite the time writing this, even if it took forever.

Garak and Julian were enjoying a spirited discussion over lunch, as they did every week (lately, twice a week), and it wasn’t long before the verbal slings and volleys got so passionate that Garak found himself fidgeting in his seat.

“Do you really mean to say that this novel represents the pinnacle of Cardassian society? To ignore all of one’s own individual desires in service to the, to the mythical concept of the State?” Julian swung his beautiful hands around and nearly knocked over the vase in the center of the table. Was the good doctor ever going to realize that by engaging so intensely in a discussion or argument, he was, in fact, flirting back outrageously in the Cardassian way?

“But of course, Doctor!” Garak sighed. “Only a starry-eyed representative of the Federation could view such devotion as a fault.”

Julian exploded. “The basic storyline doesn’t even make sense! After all you’ve told me, after all I’ve read, I’m expected to find it realistic that Kemlar would happily leave not only his wife and children, but his entire extended family and his village, in order to die in a war everyone knows is meaningless? Doesn’t that go against everything Cardassians hold dear? He abandoned his wife, leaving her to raise their six children alone! And his village suffered greatly without the presence of a doctor. One could argue that his so-called ‘sacrifice’ was nothing more than an immature and selfish act.”

Garak bit down on the inside of his cheek. The more animated and passionate Julian got during their ‘discussions’, the more his thoughts were distracted from literature. But there was no point to such flights of fancy; Garak shuddered to think what his life in exile would be like if he managed to alienate his one and only friend aboard the entire station because of something ridiculous. Like the fact that he constantly entertained fantasies of taking Doctor Bashir back to his quarters and ravishing him so thoroughly he’d be ruined for anyone else.

“Garak?” Julian waved a hand in front of his face. “Did you follow any of that? Or did you tune it out because it doesn’t line up with your superior Cardassian morals?”

Garak tilted his head and shrugged. “Oh, I don’t expect someone so young and unreasonably optimistic to understand anything about Kemlar’s journey. And Zanyal was universally recognized as being a woman of honor for so bravely raising the children and never once complaining about her husband’s sacrifice in service of the State. She is one of the most famous and beloved characters in all of Cardassian literature.”

Julian rolled his eyes. “You must be joking.”

There was a sudden shift in the air. To Julian, it felt like a crackle of static electricity over the hairs on the back of his neck; to Garak, it felt like the faint warning signal that carried across the wind before a Cardassian dust storm. Julian shivered, then took a sip of his tea.

“[But perhaps the man who finds The Slender Path of Honor, what did you call it, ‘trite,’ grows bored by such a detailed analysis.]” Garak frowned. His voice sounded different. Julian’s eyes went wide, and the doctor began making strange noises.

“Bashir [to Ops.] Bashir [to Infirmary.]” Julian kept tapping at his comm badge, only to be met with the same mess of garbled, wispy, gibberish sounds.

“Garak, [can you understand me?]” Julian asked, repeatedly tapping behind his ear.

Garak could recognize his name, but that was all. He mirrored Julian's actions and waited to see if the Universal Translator came back online after a few taps. No such luck. He looked around to notice everyone on the station doing pretty much the same thing. All his years of language study and he'd never seen it fit to learn Federation Standard. How utterly fascinating. Garak cleared his throat and tried something the doctor might have learned. “[Doctor, do you speak Bajoran?]” he asked in the type of slow, careful cadence one would hear in the beginning levels of a language learning holoprogram. The Cardassian was met with nothing but a glassy look from those captivating hazel eyes.

“[Well, shit. I guess the Universal Translator’s offline. I can't understand a bloody word you're saying,]” Julian muttered. They looked around to see the chaos kicking off all over the station. Garak glanced over his shoulder, and then was startled by a set of warm, soft hands encircling his. He whipped his head around and locked eyes with Julian.

“Garak,” Julian said slowly, “[I think it would be best for us to stay put.]” Then, he repeated himself, gesturing to Garak, then to the table, then to himself, accenting each word with a feeble attempt at interspecies sign language. Enchanted as he was by the doctor's hands on his, Garak wasn't really keen to go anywhere. After Julian slapped the table for the fifth time, Garak figured they were on the same page. He smiled and copied Julian’s gestures back to him, then taking a slow sip of his red leaf tea.

“Bashir,” Well. Garak could at least say that, even if it was heavily accented. Julian recognized his butchered name and smiled broadly at Garak, then continued on in the warbling nasal sounds Garak couldn't understand. Then, a moment of silence when Julian stared at Garak with an eager and expectant look that immediately took the tailor’s mind to inappropriate places. “[Oh, the way you look at me. I don't think you know what that means to a Cardassian. Only lovers lend each other their eyes like this.]” Garak smiled placidly. The doctor furrowed his brow, shook his head, and then continued babbling on in Federation Standard. Such an odd sounding language, although Garak couldn't complain about the pleasure of watching Julian's animated expressions. He was so lovely, he was...

“[I really wish our conversation hadn't been interrupted. I was quite enjoying it,]” Julian said. He sighed, and listened to the sounds Garak was making: hissing, clicking, occasionally something from the throat that resembled a cat's purr. Kardasi really was quite a beautiful language. He smiled at Garak, whose eyes looked every bit as lively as they did when they could understand each other. “[I'm still enjoying it, actually. Funny, isn't it?]” Julian continued, allowing himself the luxury of a few stream of consciousness realizations. “[I always enjoy lunch with you. I can't even understand a word coming out of your mouth right now, and still, I'm enjoying myself. I don't do that with anyone else. I'm not... I'm not like this with anyone else.]” Julian paused, to give Garak time to 'respond,' and found himself staring at Garak's grey lips as the Cardassian spoke.

“[Oh, Doctor, Chu'lian. May I call you Chu'lian?]” Garak asked, searching for a spark of understanding in Julian's face that seemed to appear as he recognized the outline of his name spoken in Kardasi. “[The things you don't know. And now, you have the audacity to lick your lips in front of me, as if you don't even care. Good virtue and value, you have absolutely no idea what that means, do you? You haven't the faintest clue.]” Garak allowed himself to stare at Julian's tongue running over his lips, a habit of the doctor's when he was feeling... anxious? He did it often when they were together. “[It's a proposition, Doctor, that's what it is, and a rather forward one at that. One only licks their lips after a...]” Garak realized that if, by some good graces, Julian did wish to take things a bit further than their regular arguments over lunch, now would actually be the appropriate time to do it. After a good, lively 'discussion.' Like the one that had just been interrupted.

Julian watched Garak trail off and chuckle to himself; perhaps he was having a similar train of thought, realizations spoken aloud for the first time. Or not. He was, after all, a former spy, and likely many other things. Far more experienced than Julian, in all ways one could imagine. The same mix of arousal and extreme anxiety he'd felt the first time he'd met Garak washed over Julian. “[You know,] Garak, [I have wondered about what might happen if we, uh... if we were to...]” Julian looked down into his mug. Garak couldn’t understand him; why not just say it? “[I have wondered, on occasion, what might happen if we took things further than just lunch,]” he said in a quiet but confident voice, locking his eyes on Garak's as though they were in his quarters for an intimate dinner rather than in the Replimat with chaos sounding all around them.

“[There you go, now you look at me like this again. And I feel things I shouldn't be feeling. Dangerous things.]” Garak felt the rumbling hiss of arousal start to sneak into his vocalizations and patted his chest in an effort to tamp it down.

There was a loud crash and Julian looked around to try to locate the source of the sound. Two Bajorans appeared to be having an argument with an alien species Julian couldn’t identify. Julian turned back to the table with a shrug. “[I’m not sure what the point is,]” he said, gesturing to the scene behind him. “[Don’t see the purpose of having an argument when you can’t even understand the other person.]” Then Julian tossed his head back and laughed, the gorgeous, melodic sound seeming to leap from his throat. His very long, slender, and attractive throat. Garak licked his lips as he watched the doctor’s Adam’s apple bob up and down. “[I’m sorry,] Garak, [it’s probably quite rude to laugh like this when, you can’t understand me. I just had a thought. The only people I could see continuing an argument while the Universal Translator is out are Cardassians!]” Garak recognized the name of his people, but nothing else. He was too distracted by the sparkle in Julian’s eyes and the way the doctor’s smile lifted the lines of his face. “[Why do your people like to argue so much,] Garak? [I’d love to hear an explanation for that.]” Julian leaned forward and a grin crept onto his face. “[Although I have hoped part of it is that you specifically like to argue with me. Perhaps that’s in my head, though.]”

Julian was leaning over the table, close enough for Garak to open his mouth and breathe in the scent of him. “[You always smell incredible. Delicious, even. Let it be known, Doctor Bashir, that I would happily lick the sweat from every inch of your body. Oh, Guls, it feels good to get that out!]” Garak laughed. He hadn’t said a word to anyone on the station about his hopeless attraction to Julian, and he never would. If a Cardassian saw them together at lunch, even for just a few minutes, Garak’s secret would be out. The way he argued with Julian was so obvious. And surely a Cardassian would notice all the stitking. Garak tapped his tongue to the scent gland just behind his teeth and the tell tale hssssss-tic-tic-tic sound emerged. Julian assumed the sound had been an expression of chiding, or teasing, and Garak had never seen fit to correct the record. “[I love smelling you, Chu’lian, it’s such a treat.]”

Now Julian had his head tilted down and was looking up at him through his eyelashes. He looked a bit... shy, perhaps? Oh, Guls, he hadn't scared him, had he? No, if he had scared Julian, he wouldn't still be here, he would have already left. Right? Isn't that how Terrans did things? Garak let his eyes wander down the doctor's neck. What a gorgeous neck it was.

“Garak...” Julian paused and waited for a moment, as though Garak might understand him. “[I’ve never thought of you as alien, not even once. Your mind is so sharp, so witty, it’s - well, our lunches together have always been so similar to the most stimulating conversations I’ve had on Earth, with friends, colleagues. I hear you speak your language for the first time and now, I’m realizing just how different we are. You are. It’s ... I’m-]” Julian tittered nervously, spilling a bit of his tea in the process, “[- I find myself excited by it.]”

Garak tilted his head and smiled, and for just a second, cold fear pooled in Julian’s chest, as he was convinced the Universal Translator had come back online. And then the Cardassian continued on in the swirling, flowing, alien language.

“[You don't have any ridges, Doctor, so I can't suck on them, but I imagine licking the side of your sapling neck would do... something to you…]” Garak got stuck on a hissing sound and it seemed that made Julian curious; he tilted his head and rested a hand on his chin. “[What is it that Terrans do when they reach orgasm? I don't know, but I'd sure love to find out,]” Garak said, in the same tone of voice with which he'd discuss Cardassian literature. He leaned forward and patted Julian on the hand.

Garak had once described Kardasi to Julian as “a language that curls” and he'd never understood exactly what that meant, until this moment. The sounds and pitch did indeed flow through the air like a curling, winding... what was that plant Garak was always talking about? The vine? Something about a vine? “[You really are quite captivating like this,] Garak. [You sound... well, I'm not sure if it's gauche to say this, but you sound like a cobra,]” Julian said, aware he was starting to flush a bit. Did Cardassians blush when they...? He wondered what other things he didn't know. “[Do you sound like this in...]” He laughed awkwardly, the absurdity of the situation and the heat he swore he felt between the two of them making him dizzy, “[I wonder if you sound like this when the lights are off.]”

It was a true shame Garak had never been assigned to a mission on Earth and therefore hadn't learned much about Terran culture and physiology. If he had, he’d likely have been able to identify the increasingly unsubtle flirtatious gestures the doctor was directing his way. “[How did you get to be so beautiful? On Cardassia we call it a crime to ‘possess a beauty greater than that of the soul of the people,’ which is you, dear Doctor, in a single line. I imagine people would commit crimes for you. I have. You know those Delavian chocolates I gave you two weeks ago? I stole them. Lifted them right out of a client’s bag. She was likely already on her home planet before she figured it out. I just couldn’t help myself. I knew you’d like them. It was a double thrill, stealing for my forbidden evening flower.]” Garak had flashes of an alternate reality; taking Julian out to a proper Cardassian dinner in the capital city, walking him home through the narrow alleys where the evening flower blossomed. He could see how the flower would look as he plucked it from the vine and placed it in the pocket of Julian’s mijast, a formal Cardassian garment similar in function to a tuxedo. He could smell the intoxicating fragrance of the lavender flower combining with Julian’s natural scent as he leaned forward to kiss-

“Garak.” The sound of his name on Julian’s lips was somehow more satisfying than any of his fantasies. He smiled at Julian and nodded, then pointed to himself, _yes, it's me, I can at least understand that._

Julian laughed, as did Garak. “[Seemed like I lost you for a moment there.]”

“[I have no idea what you're saying, but, yes, Doctor, I was thinking about you just then. You are so utterly distracting, do you know that?]” Garak asked, shaking a finger at Julian. “[From the moment I first saw you on board this dreadful station, I have barely been able to contain my lustful thoughts. You definitely don't want to know what I have to do after every one of our lunches together.]” Was Julian ever going to notice that Garak's shop was always closed for an hour or so after their weekly meetings?

Julian cleared his throat and shifted in his seat; listening to Garak speaking Kardasi was starting to have a very physical effect on him. “[This is, well - it’s almost like our normal lunch date. I imagine you're arguing with me about something, though I don't know what.]” He locked eyes with Garak and gestured feebly between them as he continued. “[Is there something – is there something here, between us? I always thought it was just in my head, but – I have wondered. About it, you know, about us.]”

“[I hope I haven't made you too nervous,]” Garak said as he watched his favorite Terran fiddle with his uniform and the edge of the tablecloth. “[I'm not sure what you've heard about Cardassians, but I can assure you it isn't really all that bad. It's true, we are a famously xenophobic species, and our culture is rather rigid, and, well. I'm probably not selling the whole concept very well, am I? All that aside, I promise you that a night spent in my company would be one you'd never forget.]”

“[Is it – um. I know you've, well, everyone really, has seen me around. I've been around. I get bored, and I’ve got a reputation for being a bit of a freak,]” Julian said before laughing nervously, “[it’s not necessarily an untrue reputation, but uh, I guess it’s best to get that stuff out of the way, before? Before what. Before one, uh, before one possibly manages to fuck up a perfectly good friendship with their stupid hormones? I don't know. If we – well, if I'm able to – I just. I don't want to fuck this up.]” Julian put his face in his hands for a moment, then continued talking to himself while hiding his mouth from Garak. “[Perhaps the best time to have a conversation like this is not when the bloody Universal Translator is off and the person you need to talk with can't understand a word you're saying. Dammit! Pull it together, Jules, pull yourself together.]”

Garak didn’t understand what Julian was saying, but the doctor was obviously stammering over his words in the way he often did when they were together. And the telltale red flush had creeped over his face again. Why was Julian covering his face? Was this a Terran fear response? How did he manage to be so beautiful, all the time? Garak tapped Julian's fingers until the doctor let his hands fall back to the table. He tilted his head downwards, raised his eyebrows, and rolled his hand forward slowly towards Julian. _You okay?_ , being the unspoken question. Julian smiled and nodded.

“[Good. I am glad to hear that, Chu'lian, the last thing I want is to upset you, you beautiful creature.]” Garak rested his face into his hand and allowed himself a moment to fawn over Julian, watching the doctor's hazel eyes flit in recognizable patterns over his face. _He's looking at my ridges_ , Garak realized. “[Oh, my most dear Doctor, I would love to fuck you the way a Cardassian warrior orchid would fuck its way into a hus’tirt mantis,]” Garak sighed, tilting his head to the side and gazing at Julian in wonder. He thought of the carnivorous orchid grabbing its prey and holding it still, then rapidly thrusting its long mouth into the insect's body. (A long mouth that bore more than a passing resemblance to certain Cardassian anatomical features.) Garak could see it now, holding the gorgeous creature before him down on the bed and fucking into him until he could take no more pleasure. Although he'd definitely skip the rest of the warrior orchid's activities; he wanted nothing more than to have Julian around for as long as possible. Garak was aware of a presence approaching the table and froze. He suspected he knew who was standing above him.

“What in the dust has gotten into you, you fatherless, low-born shame to the State?” Apparently Major Kira, who spoke fluent Kardasi, had overheard some of Garak's vulgar statements to Julian. She stared down at Garak like she was about to kill him.

Garak had always been fond of Major Kira, especially after learning how many of his former associates she'd murdered in cold blood. He raised an eyebrow at her with newfound respect; not everyone could deliver Kardasi slings, but he expected no less from such a famous terrorist. “Oh young apostate,” Garak said, choosing instead to answer Kira in perfect, academic-level Bajoran with an insult, “are you so foolish as to attempt to argue with me in my father’s tongue?”

Kira was able to stutter out a few syllables in Bajoran before Garak switched back to Kardasi and continued.

“The dear Doctor and I have been engaged in a bit of lively banter since the translator went out. Nothing more, nothing less.” He put on his best ‘simple tailor’ smile.

“Lively banter? Is that what your kind is calling harassment these days?”

“Harassment?” Garak laughed airily. “Hardly, Major. He can’t even understand me.”

“Exactly, Garak. He can’t understand you. He doesn’t know anything about Cardassians, and you don’t know anything about humans.”

Garak saw the fire in Kira's eyes and knew she wasn't nearly ready to stop fighting, which was perfectly fine with him. Why not have a little fun? He hadn't been able to argue with anyone in Kardasi for years.

“Oh, I know enough to know he couldn’t carry a clutch, but I’d sure love to try to give him one,” Garak continued, this time in Kardasi. “Don’t you think young Chu’lian would be so beautiful curling around a dozen eggs?”

Kira gasped; the typical Cardassian clutch size was between one to three eggs, to talk about giving someone a ‘large clutch’ was considered quite vulgar. “You wouldn’t dare, you traitorous, disrespectful night winder.”

Julian seemed to know that Garak and Kira were fighting; he opened his mouth, clearly to object, but the foreign, wobbly sounds of his language quickly became background noise to the hot headed Bajoran and the cold blooded Cardassian.

Garak laughed. The night winder was a venomous snake who emerged from its burrows once the sun had set. In Kardasi slang, it meant someone who pursued unsavory, shameful activities behind closed doors. “I must admit, Major Kira, it is quite enjoyable to spar with you in the Cardassian way. I see you were quite an eager student during your time spent among my people.”

“My time spent among your people was not a choice. And the only thing I was eager to learn was how to kill your people,” Kira spat.

“Major, I mean it from the bottom of my dry and withered heart when I say I have gained a newfound respect for you,” Garak said in flawless Bajoran, a hand dramatically placed over said dry and withered heart.

“He doesn’t want you. And even if he did, once he got to know you, he wouldn’t want you. Julian is... not the brightest orb in the array, but he is kind. His heart is clear,” Kira said. That particular Bajoran phrase had always stuck with Garak; the image of a pure heart being composed of clear water was quite poetic.

“Oh, that I know. I am an old, washed-out exile. No one wants me, not even my own people. And Doctor Bashir, well. He is so young, and so utterly, _obscenely_ beautiful,” Garak said, gesturing to Julian's long neck. “But surely I should be allowed the attempt to give him his every pleasure, to satisfy his every need, to quench his drought.” (Kira gritted her jaw at the Cardassian sexual slang, a reference to the vast amounts of fluid typically generated during the act.)

“Give him pleasure? You would only give him pain. He doesn't want it. You _serpents_ are all alike,” Kira used a well-recognized Klingon vulgarity that referred to Cardassians, then switched back to her mother tongue. “You slither into the beds of people who want you dead.”

Garak made a face of approval. Another spectacular string of insults. He'd been insulted in three languages in the past ten minutes! “Quite impressive, Major. It's true. I have skills, many skills that were once highly in demand by certain governmental entities. You already know that. But I have never... taken someone. By force.”

“Your only religion is lying,” Kira snapped, and Garak rolled his eyes. A missed opportunity, in his opinion; most Bajoran insults were utterly toothless. “Do you expect me to believe that?”

“Of course not,” Garak laughed, “But I feel the need to say it. I have never taken anyone who did not beg for it, and beg willingly, without duress. As I believe my dear friend would do should the opportunity arise. Surely you don't think our very own Chief Medical Officer dense enough to miss my blatant flirtation? We've been discussing Cardassian literature and cultural customs over lunch for years. Come now. This is all harmless enjoyment.”

Kira opened her mouth to fire back in Kardasi but... Garak actually had a valid point. They had been meeting for meals at least once a week since Julian had come aboard Deep Space Nine. When the implant in Garak’s brain failed, Julian had even gone into Cardassian space to obtain information to save Garak's life, and had stayed by his side until he had recovered. And Julian did fight with Garak so well and so naturally that if they were both Cardassian, it would be assumed they were a couple. All the pieces slotted together in her mind and she let out a soft “oh,” which caused both Garak and Julian to smile at her. Still, she felt protective of the young doctor who knew nothing about Cardassian ruthlessness. Even if Garak had the best of intentions, Julian had no idea what he was capable of. A lifetime of memories came rushing back and she slammed her fist on the table. She'd been tricked by Cardassians one too many times. “I don't believe you,” Kira shouted in what ended up being a messy blend of Bajoran and Kardasi. She blinked, then kept going in Kardasi. “And I don't trust you. Your kind are all the same. I know you. Every one of you. You're all the same. You've got some real devotion, to stand here and try to tell me you’re not just in this for your own sick benefit. Has it been too long since you’ve tortured someone? Feeling the need to tie someone up and beat them for a few hours? I’ll kill you before I’ll let you harm anyone aboard this station.”

“Of course you don't trust me. You're wise beyond your years,” Garak continued in Bajoran, “and yes. I meted out torture only when necessary in the course of my interrogations-”

“A Cardassian interrogation often ends with a dead Bajoran-” Kira screamed in Bajoran.

“-but to forcibly take someone. It’s undignified. Speaks to a poor upbringing. Disgraceful to display such a lack of control over one’s baser instincts,” Garak said in Kardasi. He looked truly disgusted at the implication that he would force himself onto Julian, and Kira, for all her well-earned hatred of Cardassians, found she actually believed him (on this matter alone!), surprising even herself. She gaped at Garak for a few moments before finding her voice.

“As though any of your people have ever followed their own moral code. Every single one of you, untrustworthy, traitorous, the way you behave is indefensible. He can’t understand you. You should at least attempt to preserve the last grains of your rotted dignity.” Kira said the Cardassian proverb as perfectly as any native speaker Garak had ever heard.

He clapped slowly. “Very nice, Ner’nerys,” he said in informal Bajoran, the additional syllable at the beginning of Kira’s name denoting one who was ‘little’ or ‘small,’ the way one would talk to a young child, “We should fight more often, you and I. It’s been quite a long time since-”

For Major Kira, being called by her first name and insulted for the third time in her mother tongue by a Cardassian who spoke the language just as well as any of the Vedics and Kais was the last straw, or, as Bajorans say, 'the proverb that caused the Prophets to turn their backs.' She could take no more. Frustrated by her inability to communicate in Federation Standard to warn Doctor Bashir, and infuriated by the smug former interrogator who’d inflicted horrors upon her people, she snapped and punched Garak in the nose so hard that she felt the familiar crunch of her knuckles breaking upon impact.

“Major Kira!” Julian yelled, immediately standing and putting himself in between Kira and Garak, and catching a slug to the chin in the process. Garak was laughing so hard it took him a moment to notice the blood streaming down onto his tunic.

“Oh dear,” Garak said, bringing his hands up to cup his face. “And I was always so fond of this one.”

“Serves you right, you bastard, servant-class deviant!”

Despite the throbbing pain in his face and his ruined tunic, Garak continued laughing. Honestly, he hadn't had this much fun in a while. Julian ran after Kira briefly, but anyone could read the Major's body language, what with her furious gesticulations and shrill tone of voice. Julian tried to grab her by the arm, but she made her way down the promenade instead, shaking her hand out occasionally as she disappeared into the chaos. He then turned his full attention to Garak. Julian got down on his knees to look at Garak's injury, his face mere inches away from the tailor's.

“Garak, [oh, god, I didn't realize you were bleeding so much,]” Julian said, his face contorted into worry. He gently pulled Garak's fingers away from his face. He sucked in a breath as he saw a bit of bone emerging from underneath Garak's grey skin. “[I think she broke your nose.]”

“[I think she broke my nose,]” Garak said, using his free hand to point to his nose. Julian was always so careful with him anytime he needed medical attention. “[You really are such a wonderful doctor, Chu'lian, it's a miracle I haven't deliberately injured myself more often in order to get your attention. Do you have any idea how nice your hands feel against my skin?]” He made a noise that was in between a sigh and a groan.

“[Comms out, so everything's likely out,]” Julian mumbled to himself as he stood. “[Come,] Garak, [let's get you to the infirmary.]” Julian held his hand out for Garak, who remained seated until Julian tucked his hand under Garak's arm and started to pull him up. “[Come on, come with me.]”

“[I don't know where we're going, but as long as I'm going with you...]” Garak stood slowly, continuing to keep a hand cupped under his nose.

“[Oh, wait. We've got to-]” Julian grabbed both the cloth napkins from their table and held them out until Garak took them and began sopping up the blood from his face. “[There. That should be better. I've got to get you taken care of soon.]” As they headed out of the replimat, Julian rubbed Garak’s back for a moment before bringing his arm down around the Cardassian’s waist.

“[Would you touch a man who has killed people, Doctor? I wasn't lying about that. If you knew about some of the things I’d done, would you be so tenderly escorting me to infirmary? At least I assume it’s the infirmary and not the brig.]” Garak breathed a small sigh of relief when Julian passed by Odo’s office without stopping. “[Keeping your oath, I see. Know that I appreciate it, Chu’lian.]

“[I hope your nose isn’t broken too terribly, but whether it is or it isn’t, I’ll have you fixed up in no time,] Garak.”

“[I'm going to soak my trousers before too long if you keep this up. You feel far too good. It's been years since anyone has touched me, even like this.]” Garak allowed himself to be guided through the chaotic crowd and tried not to focus on the warmth of Julian’s body in such close proximity to his. What a sad reality of his exile. He’d give almost anything to experience even an hour with Julian, perhaps together in a Cardassian sauna program, steam surrounding them, caressing the doctor’s bare shoulders as they kissed and-

“Garak.” Julian said loudly. He pointed down the hallway leading to the infirmary. Garak stumbled and nearly fell into the wall. “[Whoa there, careful.]” Julian caught Garak, then helped him steady himself. He was surprised at how much of his strength it required. “[Goddamn,] Garak. [I didn’t realize you were built so... so solidly.]” It was easy to imagine himself being held in those strong arms. Or being thrown to the ground and held down by them. _Okay, Jules, get a hold of yourself. He’s probably in a lot of pain, just be a professional,_ Julian thought.

“[I apologize, Doctor Bashir, you are so distracting,]” Garak said through the two napkins held up to his face. Julian walked him through the doors of the infirmary; several Bajoran nurses offered to help, but Julian waved them away. Garak was touched that Julian had remembered his general distaste for medical care. “[You are the only doctor I've ever trusted,]” Garak said as Julian gently helped him onto the examination table.

“[Okay, bear with me,] Garak.” Julian tilted the table back so he could get a look at Garak's nose in the light. “[Here, let me - I always assumed you’d be cold,]” Julian said as he gently tilted Garak's head back and forth to examine the damage. “[You know, your people having the physiology and needs that you do, I just assumed – well, it's always a surprise when I... when I touch you. You're warmer than I think. I was so surprised by it when you were, when you were ill.]”

“[Your hands are so warm. I would love nothing more than for you to give me a complete and thorough physical. I haven't had one in years. Who knows what horrible problems I might be having?]” Garak flinched as Julian's fingers touched the area around the exposed bone.

“[Well, she broke your nose, all right. Shattered it in three places, as far as I can tell. Hang on while I get the regenerator. Going to need the bone regenerator, as well as a dermal one. She got you pretty good.]” Julian opened and closed a few drawers until he found what he needed; the larger bone regenerator and the smaller portable dermal regenerator. “[This might take a while, but I promise to have you as good as new by the time I'm done.]” Julian smiled.

“[Keep touching me any way you'd like, Doctor, just don't be surprised if I leave behind a rather large wet spot on this exam table. Great ancestors, it's been far too long since anyone has laid hands on me. There's only so much self-pleasuring one can do.]”

“[Oh, I wish I knew what you were saying,]” Julian lamented as he continued working the bone regenerator over Garak's nose. “[You’re probably just complaining as usual, but it sounds so beautiful.]”

“[However, when I am pleasuring myself, I am definitely always thinking of you. You have quite the starring role in my most private thoughts!]” Garak flinched reflexively as Julian gently touched his nose, but he soon realized the doctor had repaired the break.

“Garak.” Julian said the Cardassian’s name slowly, and Garak tilted his head towards the Doctor. “[I’m going to use the dermal regenerator on you now,]” he said, pointing and gesturing dramatically to the instrument in his hand. Julian watched transfixed as Garak opened his mouth and the stream of hissing and clicking sounds continued on.

“[You're going to use the dermal regenerator on me, are you, Doctor? Oh, how absolutely kind of you. If I had my way with you, we would need several of these on hand. Even if you could understand me now, you wouldn’t have the faintest idea of what I meant. You see, my dear, we bite, and we bite hard. And your skin, it is so fragile. I would hold myself back, for you, I would. Unless you wanted me to bite. Perhaps you like that. I would certainly love to know more about what you like.]” Garak said.

“[Kardasi is really such a complex and beautiful language,]” Julian muttered to himself as he ran the dermal regenerator in concentric circles over Garak’s nose. “[But] Garak, [really. What the hell did you say to] Kira?” The doctor rested a hand on Garak's shoulder and the tailor couldn't help but let out a low groan that to Cardassian ears would immediately be recognized as so forward as to be scandalous. “[I know you two obviously don’t get on, but. I haven’t seen her go off like that in years.]”

Julian felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He suspected that the familiar sensation might herald the return of the Universal Translator, but before he had a chance to speak, Garak opened his mouth.

“Oh, Julian,” Garak said in a low and sensual voice Julian had never heard, “you lay your hand on my /private neck bone/ like I am already your lover. You don't have a clue what that means to a Cardassian. Do you even have any idea what I would do with you if you were mine? I would treat you so well. I’d ruin you for any other.”

Julian froze. Had the Universal Translator actually started working again? Or was this just a cruel trick of his mind? Or a sick joke? Surely Garak wasn’t-

“After one night with me, one night with my /bud/ in your /burrow/, you would be so spoiled, my lovely, pretty Julian, you’d be in my bed begging for it all hours of the day. And I’d give it to you, I absolutely would, know that. I would fuck you anywhere and anytime you wanted, Doctor. Oh, and I’m sure you know about this, but you could fuck me too. Right in the /purse/. We’re a versatile species. Now, given that I have had the pleasure of measuring your inseam more than a few times, I’m honestly not sure if all of... that would fit inside me. What do Terrans call being formed in that way? In Kardasi it comes out rather crass, something like ‘the man carries a dangerous club,’ personally, I’ve never been fond of the phrase. I hope there’s a more sensual way to say it, even in Federation Standard, the least sensual language I’ve ever heard. Ah, but I digress. Just know I’d be willing to give it a try.” Garak smiled.

Julian was thankfully in the middle of the sensitive task of removing the remainder of the caked blood from around Garak’s repaired nose; his medical training was the only thing that stopped him from reacting to what was coming out of Garak’s mouth. In perfect Federation Standard. The man he’d harbored a thousand fantasies about was right next to him, babbling on endlessly about him being well-hung, of all things. Julian felt dizzy and braced himself on the exam table for a moment before continuing his work.

“Cardassians, well, our... _unique_ anatomical features render us extremely sensitive to sensation. It’s not uncommon for Cardassians of any sex to go off at a moment's notice. Therefore, it requires great strength of character and skill to be able to... last. Sexually, that is. I, of course, got my training from the Obsidian Order. I won't go into the details, but let's just say I've learned many methods that I’d be happy to put to use for you. You’d probably look lovely riding my /blunt weapon,/ straddling me and letting your sweat drip into my mouth. I’m certain there’s not a part of you that doesn’t taste delicious, Julian. I bet your mouth tastes like the finest /bitter winter honey/ and I’d give anything to run my tongue over your /foreign serpent./ And that neck of yours, Doctor. On Cardassia I'd have to fight a thousand suitors for you.”

Julian panicked over the two major problems he was facing. He was rapidly hardening against the thin fabric of the Starfleet standard issue uniform, (Perhaps Garak had a point in his hatred of the ‘flimsily constructed crimes against fashion,’ as he called them,) and he couldn’t continue to remain silent, or else Garak might grow suspicious and realize the translator was working again. Meaning he might never know what was really going on inside that labyrinthine mind of Garak’s. He placed the dermal regenerator down, held up a hand, then pointed to the door and quickly left the room. He wiped the sweat from his brow and then cupped his hands over his cock. God, how in the hell was he going to cover this up? The bloody Starfleet uniforms left little to the imagination. Julian clicked the button behind his ear three times, then took a few deep breaths. Wait. Education mode wasn’t activated by three clicks; it was two. He clicked in the patterns until he was confident he’d done it correctly. Education mode was a one-way translator setting, designed for teaching xenolinguistics. He was able to calm himself down enough to go back inside the exam room. Garak was too excited to notice that Julian had returned with the same type of towel that was stacked eight high on every shelf in the exam room.

“[Let me just test this out. If I’ve done this right, you won’t be able to understand me.]” Julian was careful to keep a measured, clinical tone of voice.

“I guess the translator is still out,” Garak sighed. “Such an odd sounding language. I’d learn a bit for you, if you liked, but I’d prefer to hear some Kardasi coming out of that gorgeous mouth of yours. I am an excellent teacher, if I must say so myself.”

“[So, I’ve done this correctly, then. All right, you absolute utter shit, I’m going to hear exactly what it is you have to say while my translator is on ‘teaching’ mode.]” Julian picked up the dermal regenerator and picked up where he left off. “[You’re such a goddamn good liar, I would have never known any of this. I offer all my thanks to the bloody Universal bloody Translator deciding to go on the fritz today. So, go on] Garak, [keep talking. Please. Share what’s on your utterly corrupted mind.]” He smiled and continued to work on the thin skin around Garak’s nose.

“As entertaining as this little exercise has been, I better get everything off my /shield/ before Major Kira comes and informs you what the big, scary Cardassian was saying over lunch. I wish you could understand me, Doctor, because then you could be arguing with me, in the classic Cardassian way. You always /spring back/ so quickly. It's such a thrill, Julian.” Garak laughed, then lowered his voice. “Especially when you raise your voice and wave your lovely hands around. Gets every ridge on my body /a deep shade of arousal blue./”

“[Ah, so the rumors I've heard are true then. You sly dragon. Probably figured I was too engrossed in my own highbrow thoughts to figure that out over our lunches.]” Julian hummed as he finally got Garak's nose completely clean. “[Hmm. Still a few spots where the skin needs repairing.]” He reached for the dermal regenerator. “[Well. If you must know the truth. I was trying so hard to impress you that I completely missed all the subtext, which is sadly quite typical for me.]”

“Today has been quite the adventure. Being this close to you and your /harvest blossom scent/ is nearly driving me mad. As it stands, I’ll likely be fucking into my own hand tonight, as engorged as I am now, I probably won’t last long. I’ll be soaking my walls as I call out your name, Chu'lian. Even your name is beautiful. As you would be on your knees with your tongue /unzipping my purse./”

Garak was so engrossed in his fantasy he didn’t notice Julian hands beginning to tremble. He certainly didn't notice Julian's eyes drift up and down his neck ridges, taking a look at the sensitive tissue that was swelling and darkening to what was apparently called 'arousal blue.' 

“[You’re a sick fuck,] Garak, [and the really fucked thing about it all is, I think I rather like it.]” Julian kept his tone as calm as possible, but it became harder to maintain any sense of professionalism with every vulgar sentence that made its way out of Garak’s mouth. Normally, Julian would find the oddly translated Cardassian idioms a barrier to understanding, but Garak’s sordid delivery of every phrase made the meanings quite clear. 

“Before you fix me up and send me on my way back to my cold and lonely /vole cage/, let me tell you my idea of an ideal evening. With you, if you would allow me. I’d argue with you over a fine Kardasi meal smuggled straight from Prime. Quark owes me several favors after I... well. Never mind. Let me keep him out of this. It is, after all, a fantasy.” Garak chuckled.

“[I appreciate that; he's not exactly part of my dream evening, either,]” Julian said as he dialed in the dermal regenerator settings to focus on a smaller area.

“There is kanar that even you would like. It would cost me a fortune, but you, dear Doctor, are worth it. After a good, solid, infuriating argument that renders us both nice and /warm under our clothing,/ I don't imagine it would take me very long to have you upon my bed naked and splayed out like a /river invertebrate./”

“[A river invertebrate?] Aww, Garak, [I had no idea you were such a romantic.]”

“Ah, Doctor Bashir, the sound of your voice could carry me through a thousand years in solitary confinement. And I am certain one night with you would be the memory that would accompany me /beyond the horizon./ I would work your /petals/ with my /nectar drinking organ/ until you were satisfied beyond your wildest imagination. I'm unsure what you know about Cardassian /intimate practices/, but a soaked room is a sign of a mutually enjoyable evening. I don't think that's how Terrans work. At least not in the limited holos I've seen. Quite an exhibitionist species, your kind. Would you wish to make a recording of our /entangled vines/? You seem like the type.” Garak's voice had taken on a low rumble that was having quite the effect on the doctor.

“[For a plain and simple tailor who was definitely not a spy or an assassin you’ve got quite a creative mind. Let me guess – you learned that in the Obsidian Order?]” Julian was struggling to maintain control of himself; he angled his body away from Garak to hide the tent forming in his trousers.

“Ah, it will likely never happen, so it doesn't matter. But, if I had you /pinned/ in my bed, I would give you my /blunt weapon/ until you could take no more pleasure, I would let you ride me like a /racing hound/ until my /bud/ would have no choice but to return to its /burrow./ I'd even let you /search my purse./ I'd lay a /lover's bite/ on that /slender tree/ neck of yours, so everyone would know you are my /hard-won treasure./ And then I’d love nothing more than to lick my /torrential rainfall/ off of your face, Doctor Bashir. That’s the type of evening I long to enjoy with you. But only if you wished.” A placid smile appeared on Garak’s face, completely at odds with the absolute filth Julian had just heard him dish out.

The doctor could no longer contain his reactions; his eyebrows shot up and he dropped the dermal regenerator on the floor. He quickly and surreptitiously clicked his translator back into two-way mode while he picked it up. Garak felt his chest clench up. Oh no...

“Doctor Bashir, is the Universal Translator still out?” Garak asked, desperately hoping to hear the warbled, nasal sounds of Federation Standard from Julian's mouth.

“Oh, the translator’s working just fine, Garak,” Julian said, slipping two fingers under his collar and pulling it away from his neck. His beautiful, gorgeous neck that Garak had waxed poetic about for a few hours. Garak saw the flush on the good doctor’s face that extended all the way up to his hairline; and when Julian had recovered enough to look Garak in the eye, he saw the ridges and scales on Garak’s face darkening to that same deep navy blue.

“Is it? Interesting.”

“It – uh, yes,” was Julian adjusting his... trousers? “it does seem that the Universal Translator is working again. Has been for quite a while, actually. Working wonderfully.”

“Ah.” Garak gripped his thighs and tried to think of a fabulous lie to lead him out of this mortifying situation. The silence in the air hung thick, and the former spy quickly realized there was no option other than to confront the situation head on. “I must apologize, Doctor, this was completely inappro-

Garak was interrupted by the fiery crack of Julian slapping him across the face. Even after his implant had been removed, every time he felt pain, the rush of pleasure always followed closely behind it. He brought a hand to his stinging cheek and took a moment to try to control the raging fire he felt between his legs.

“Well, I suppose that’s what I deserve for being such a-”

But before Garak could finish, Julian had straddled him. “Shut up, you bastard,” he said before kissing him desperately.

“Dnnnnnnt,” Garak muttered against Julian’s warm lips. All he could do was remain still as Julian pushed him back against the reclined exam table. Wait. His hands, shouldn't he be doing something with his hands? Garak slowly brought his hands up to Julian's back and felt the warmth seeping through his flimsy Starfleet uniform.

“I’ve been wanting you to talk to me like that for ages,” Julian gasped into his mouth, “and you have the audacity to do it when I can’t understand you? What sort of Cardassian madness is that?”

“It seems there is more understanding between us than I thought, Doctor, a pleasant surprise indeed,” Garak said as Julian pressed against his body, kissing his neck, his jaw, even pulling his tunic down to perform the incredibly forward act of licking Garak's collarbone. “Oh!”

“You absolute utter bastard,” Julian said, “you really weren't ever going to tell me, were you? You were just going to sit there and-”

“Had I known the effect-” Garak caressed Julian’s neck, “-my words would have on you, I would have spoken far sooner.”

“You were just sitting there like normal, looking at me like you were discussing your obtuse Cardassian literature, but all the whole you were-”

“Obtuse?”

“Shut. Up,” Julian said, gripping Garak firmly by the collar. “If you're not in my quarters in fifteen minutes, I _will_ come find you.” Julian punctuated his request with a sharp bite on Garak's left neck ridge that bruised instantly. He pushed his slender fingers into Garak's thighs for leverage as he stood. Garak brought his fingers to touch the bite Julian had left behind. Julian adjusted himself in his trousers without breaking eye contact, then left the room in a huff.

Garak sucked in a deep breath. Time to assess the situation. He knew it was bad, but how bad? He stood and felt a rush of fluid slip out of him. As he suspected, his trousers were soaked; a very visible wet streak extended down his inseam, all the way to his knee. He let out an untranslatable Kardasi curse most accurately described as a specific frequency of a hiss and looked around the room. This was the best thing that had happened to him since he'd been exiled from Cardassia, and he wasn't about to blow it. After weighing out all the options, Garak went over to the sink. He waited until the water was steaming hot, then grabbed one of the disposable cups and splashed himself until he was so sopping wet, no one would notice the evidence of his arousal leaking down the inside of his thighs. He exited his room and was greeted by a flustered Bajoran nurse.

“Sir-”

“Oh, I'm fine,” Garak said. “Seems the Universal Translator isn't the only technology that's malfunctioning today.” He left the infirmary and began the mercifully short trek to Julian's quarters, completely unbothered by all the stares directed his way. Surely a wet Cardassian wasn't the strangest sight anyone had seen today. Garak started shivering as he reached Julian's level; he couldn't tell if it was from nerves or the chill seeping through his clothing. He rang Julian's chime and was hyperaware of the seconds that stretched out before Julian opened the door and flung him against the wall. The doctor's blazingly warm lips met his in a furious rush, but once Julian pressed his body against Garak's, he stopped.

“Garak! You're shivering, you're soaking wet! What happened to you?” Julian asked as he escorted the Cardassian further into his quarters. “Computer, increase temperature by 8 degrees Celsius.” He guided Garak to the sofa. “Computer, replicate three standard bath towels.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Garak said as he perched delicately on the edge of the sofa. “I felt it would be better if I took your gentle suggestion to meet you here, rather than forcing you to meet me up on the 32nd level. You sounded quite serious.”

“I don’t - why are you wet? What happened?” Julian threw a towel around his shoulders and began drying him off.

“There are many curious facets of Cardassian biology, Doctor, specifically regarding how evidence of arousal works on species with internal... well. Let’s just say after such stimulating conversation, I ended up a bit of a mess. But I’ll stop there. You've probably learned more than enough about my body for one day.” 

Julian’s mouth fell open. “Oh.” He stood and opened a drawer. “Here. Take this.” Julian tossed Garak the robe he’d given him as a gift a few months ago, a delicate garment of maroon Vulcan satin and Andorian ribbon trim. “You’re still shivering. At least make yourself comfortable. Go on,” he said, gesturing to the restroom. Garak padded across Julian's quarters, leaving little drips of water behind with every step.

“I'm sorry to leave such a mess in your quarters, Julian,” Garak said quietly.

Julian laughed. “Says the man who spent all day saying the things you said. It's just water.” He stood and took a towel over to Garak. “Take a hot shower.” He placed the towel over Garak's shoulder and kissed him, gently this time, with a familiarity Garak was certain he didn't deserve.

“I suppose I must defer to the medical advice of the professional.” Garak heard Julian's laughter echoing through his quarters as he shut himself inside the restroom and turned on the shower. It only took a few moments for the water to become blessedly hot; Garak stepped into the shower and allowed himself to enjoy the warmth and the solitude. Guls, he'd surely stepped in it, hadn't he? He felt ashamed of the way he'd spoken today, both for the vulgarity and also the sloppy way he'd let down his guard. Surely someone like Julian would not want to spend even one night in his company. He'd been so reckless, so quick to share his thoughts without regard for the risks. _I've grown careless and soft in my old age_ , Garak thought as he scrubbed his skin with a bubbly gel labeled 'Orchard Lemon and Desert Sandalwood.”

“A young sapling like him most likely wants nothing to do with a withered old tree,” Garak muttered to himself through the spray of hot water.

Another terrible thought popped into his mind. What if he was about to become just another one of Julian's many conquests, a counting mark etched into the fence? That would be an even worse outcome than allowing his desires to run wild and make a fool of him. Garak turned the water off and hastily dried himself. He donned the robe he'd made for Julian and put on a brave face as he opened the door and stepped out in a dramatic cloud of lemon and sandalwood scented steam.

“I must thank you for the use of your facilities, Doctor, I feel much better. Now, if I can just dry my clothes off, I'll be on my way back-”

“Oh, I don't think so.” Julian had a wicked smile upon his face and Garak felt his ajan quiver despite his humiliation at the truly filthy thoughts he’d shared. “Did you think I asked you here just to talk? We've done quite enough of that today, don't you think?” he asked as he draped his slender arms over Garak's shoulders.

“I...” Garak's usually sharp tongue felt heavy and unwieldy in his mouth. It was as if he'd used up his word quota for the day with the shameless expressions of desire he'd been voicing for hours.

“Suddenly rendered speechless, are you?” Julian wrapped himself around Garak like a white flower garden vine. He kissed Garak on the cheek, at the corner of his mouth, then on the lips, only to stop and step away with a disappointed look on his face. “Unless that was all just talk.”

Garak threw up his hands. “Something only the man who didn't grasp the central message of Stories of Five Summers would say. I wonder why you continue to allow this discussion to run in circles around us.”

“And I wonder why the man who insists on joining me for lunch twice a week would feel such passionate sentiments for so long and not say a single bloody word about it?” Julian asked in the familiar, haughty tone of voice that he typically only used when they were in the height of a glorious argument. Normally, it would excite Garak, but he felt too vulnerable, too exposed.

Garak pursed his lips together and crossed his arms. “One might not consider it a wise idea to voice one’s most depraved and explicit fantasies about... one’s only friend in a life of exile. At least not directly to said friend,” he said slowly.

Julian looked down at the floor. _Wow, no one puts their foot in their mouth like I do!_ , he thought. But Cardassians didn’t typically respond well to outward displays of forward emotion. Did they? Best not to risk it. “One might consider it a wiser idea if one’s... friend is having similar depraved fantasies and vulgar thoughts.”

Garak looked at him and blinked slowly with his third eyelid. What was left to say? He'd bared more of himself today than he had in his entire life. As far as he was concerned, Julian was in charge of how things would proceed from here. He held out his hands towards Julian, palms up, fingers pointing down; a gesture of intimacy and trust Julian would not know the significance of, but one Garak felt a need to perform nonetheless. “My dear, dear, Doctor, I believe I've shared more than enough information for you to decide on a course of action.”

And then Julian was on him; the doctor pounced like a long-toothed striped cat and practically threw Garak onto the bed, climbing atop him while stripping off his jacket as though it was on fire. He untied the maroon robe and pressed his palms against Garak's torso, tracing the ornate patterns of scales and ridges all the way up to Garak's collarbone. “Oh, I have, Garak, I'd like to follow the course of action you were discussing earlier. One of them. Any of them.” He mouthed the scales that lined Garak's neck one by one, then brushed his lips along Garak's jaw; the Cardassian shuddered and tightened his arms around Julian.

“Chu'lian,” Garak was so overwhelmed he bypassed the translator entirely.

“Say my name again,” Julian begged while he slipped his trousers and pants off.

“Julian.”

“No, in Kardasi.” Julian reached up behind Garak's ear and was about to tap the button when Garak sat upright.

“Now wait just a moment, don't you want to be able to understand me? Is the burden of carrying on a conversation with a simple tailor already too much for you to bear?”

“I understood you quite perfectly earlier in the day.” Julian again tried to reach the translator switch. “If that was all talk, I'm never going to let you live it down.”

“I can assure you it wasn’t, but there are-”

“Please. Turn your translator off. For me.” Julian carefully slipped the robe off of Garak's shoulders.

“I'm not sure that's such a good idea.”

“Turn it off. I want to hear you speaking like you were,” Julian insisted.

“But, Doctor-”

“Julian.”

“Doctor-”

“My name-” Julian scratched his nails against Garak's back, “-is Julian.”

“Wait. Stop.” Garak pushed Julian into the bed with just enough force to make his point. Julian's eyes went wide as Garak held him down by his wrists. “Even the most washed-out and useless of my species is at least four times stronger than yours. If my translator is off...” Garak trailed off and released his hold on Julian's wrists. “I don't want to hurt you.”

Julian sat up and laughed. “I don’t care if you do.”

“Julian.” Garak placed his hands on the doctor’s shoulders. “I am quite serious.”

“Okay, Garak, all right, all right.”

“I won’t hurt you,” Garak snapped. Then, softer, “I don’t want to hurt you, Julian.”

“You won’t,” Julian said as he placed a warm hand on Garak’s face. “I can... oh, wait! You should be able to put yours in education mode. Have you used that before?”

Garak didn't move. “It's been quite a long time, I don't know if that would be enough to-”

“Just try it for a moment. Please? Click it twice. You should still be able to understand me.”

It was impossible for Garak to look into Julian's beautiful, radiant face and not want to immediately try to satisfy his desires. “As you wish, Doctor.” Garak reached up behind his ear and gave the recessed spot a double click. “[How's that? Shall I speak only for... for the sake of speaking?]” he asked, hearing the words leave his mouth in swirling Kardasi.

“This is rather pleasant, Garak.” Julian's voice sounded odd translated into Kardasi; the sibilant sounds didn't line up with the way his mouth was moving, and there was a noticeable delay. “Say something else to me.”

“[I see the good Doctor's voice is coming through quite clearly in Kardasi. How stimulating,]” Garak deadpanned.

Julian placed a hand on Garak's chest. “If we have done this correctly, you should be able to understand the words I speak. I cannot understand you; all I hear is the /proud tongue of the home planet./ But I need to know if you can understand me. If you can understand me, um, raise two fingers.”

“[I understand you perfectly, Chu'lian,]” Garak said, raising two fingers and locking eyes with Julian, whose face slowly stretched into a broad, lovely smile.

“Ah, so you understand me, then. Brilliant. Yes.” Julian took a deep breath and leaned back onto the pillow. “I want you to /devour me like an orchid warrior devours its prey./”

Garak blinked and tilted his head. The idiom hadn't quite translated properly, but the message appeared to be clear. Just in case: “[Say that again?]” he asked, hoping his facial expressions and inflection would convey the question.

“Garak, I want you, /to enter into me with all the strength of a gettle heading into the fight,/ please,” Julian said slowly and deliberately. “Please tell me if you need me to repeat it, I am literally begging you to /water me as though I am a spine gourd in the middle of a dry summer./”

“[I...]” Garak was momentarily rendered speechless by the phrases coming out of Julian's mouth. “[Doctor, I had no idea you had such an extensive vocabulary,]” he said as Julian pulled him down into a kiss. “[It almost assuages my guilty conscience from my actions earlier in the day, when-]”

He was interrupted by Julian's warm hands wandering down his abdomen. “If you want to talk to me, you will have to do it while /you irrigate my fields,/” the doctor said with a naughty grin. Julian stroked the cluster of scales at the top of Garak's ajan.

“[Chu'lian! Who taught you about this?]” Garak exclaimed as he everted into Julian's hand. He gasped as Julian reached inside him with those slender surgeon's fingers and stroked the sensitive spot at the base.

“I don't know what you said, but if you have asked me how I have /gained the knowledge of private activities between intimate companions,/ I have studied some of the literature and information left aboard this station in the hopes that I might put it to use one day. With you, Elim.” Hearing his first name from Julian's lips was the rain that fell on Garak's parched heart. He finally let down his guard, tangled a hand into Julian's hair, and slowly lowered himself to press against Julian's warm skin.

“[I have gained some additional mass in my old age,]” Garak said quietly, “[so if you need me to move just give me a little... pinch.]” He poked Julian in the ribs and the doctor laughed as he wrapped his legs around Garak's back.

“You are /built like the solid stone that composes the State Archives/.” Julian ran his hands over Garak's sides, tracing the patterns of his scales.

“[That is hardly a compliment, Doctor Bashir, but, for tonight, I will grant you and the Universal Translator the benefit of the doubt.]” Garak rolled his hips forward, spreading his slick all over Julian's belly and his... what was this called again? He looked down at the gorgeous body part in his hand. “[I can't remember what this is called, but I suppose if you don't like my hand on it, you'll ask me to stop. I like it, though, it feels very nice.]”

Julian moaned and began mouthing at the ridges along Garak's neck. “Please continue, continue, do not stop under any circumstances, I want you, I desire you,” he said, his voice vibrating against Garak's aural ridge.

“[Oh, Chu'lian, how I've longed for you,]” Garak gasped into Julian's mouth as the doctor guided the tip of him inside. “[You...]” Garak paused to focus and center himself; he had no idea Julian would feel this good, “[You have to tell me if I'm hurting you. Ah. But you can't understand me. I'm not sure I am entirely supportive of your idea.]”

As though he now understood Kardasi perfectly, Julian immediately began encouraging Garak with his body and his words. “Please, Elim, you feel so delightful, please, /push into me like the hands that place a plant in the fertile soil./” Julian spread his legs and gripped Garak's hips firmly, pulling him deeper inward.

Garak braced himself on his elbows and let his head fall forward. “[My evening flower, my rising moon, Chu'lian, beautiful, lovely Chu'lian,]” he muttered as Julian began touching his hair, his lips, the raised scales around his recently un-broken nose.

“You can move now, please, if you will, please, please come closer, give me your /rain,/” Julian begged.

“[You're going to end this before I have even had a chance to get started, spring butterfly.]” Garak pressed his forehead to Julian's and allowed the low rumble to sound from his chest. “[I wouldn't do this with just anyone, Chu'lian, know that.]” He obeyed Julian's request and began to thrust slowly and steadily into him, relishing all the squeaks and delighted noises of pleasure he was able to wring out of his doctor. “[You feel so wonderful, oh, great virtue, you feel so good, so very good. I will endeavor not to disappoint you, so you will let me pleasure you like this again.]”

“Elim, Elim, you feel so wonderful,” Julian said. His eyes began to dart around, and he laughed quietly. “I hope this isn't just a... um, just a /blossoming of the summer moon lily?/”

Garak froze and placed a hand under Julian's chin, making sure those sparkling hazel eyes were locked on his. Another poorly-translated colloquialism, this one referring to the kizay'or plant, a rare and prized perennial tuber that bloomed once every few years. The kizay'or bloomed only at night, often during the full moon at the peak of the hot and dusty Cardassian summer. In classical literature, it was a reference to infrequent occurrences; as most Cardassians had never even seen a kizay'or in bloom, the current informal use was in reference to things that happened in the middle of the night. Typically activities between lovers, that only happened once, what was that called in Federation Standard? Garak tried to remember how he'd heard Julian describe those fleeting encounters and couldn't. But, in this moment, he had to make sure Julian understood.

“No.” Garak's tongue felt strange wrapped around one of the few Federaji words he knew. He shook his head vigorously. “No,” he repeated. _Please, let him understand me_ , Garak thought. Just as he began to reach behind his ear to turn his translator to its usual setting, Julian grabbed his hand and brought it to his lips.

“I understand,” Julian said, smiling. “What a /long-awaited arrival of good news./” He landed kisses on each of Garak's smooth fingertips before releasing his hand and wrapping his arm around the tailor. “Now, do you care to show me /how your monsoon rains will fall upon my fields?/” he asked, while touching the place where they were joined.

“[You thirsty little sapling,]” Garak hissed as he nipped Julian on the collarbone. The doctor yelped and enthusiastically clutched Garak even more tightly. “[I will happily give you all the rain I can make.]”

**Author's Note:**

> Many of these words are borrowed from other great writers in this fandom! @prelocandkanar created some incredible words in their fic "Marked" which is not on ao3 as I can recall but I found through google. Like, brilliance. @AlphaCygni's vocabulary has been wonderful to add in! And of course the @tinsnip created words are always beautiful. Thanks to everyone in this incredible fandom for their wonderful creativity. I love it!


End file.
